


Dirty Laundry

by ardentaislinn



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Neighbours AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 16:39:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4107763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardentaislinn/pseuds/ardentaislinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the prompt: “escaped to the laundry room to avoid hearing my room-mates having extremely loud sex only to find you’re here doing the same thing”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty Laundry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lavendergaia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavendergaia/gifts).



> Feel free to check out Fitzsimmmonsy's awesome photoset that accompanies this fic [here](fitzsimmmonsy.tumblr.com/post/121131321883/dearest-lavendergaia-pleaseletmeshowyou-and-i) .

They were doing it _again_.

Jemma froze, her fist inches away from banging the wall above her bed in a reflexive movement designed to get her neighbours to stop having such loud sex. She loved Skye and Trip, she really did, but they gave a whole new meaning to the word banging.

Jemma sighed and let her arm drop. She was too happy that they’d finally got their act together and admitted they were perfect for one another to stay mad for more than a second. Rather than interrupt their well-deserved time together, Jemma set her laptop aside and slid off the bed. She grabbed her laundry basket and slipped out of her apartment as fast as she could without succumbing to the indignity of running. She was not being chased out of her home by her overly-enthusiastic neighbours.

It was only when she had hauled the basket down six flights of stairs and into the laundry room that Jemma remembered that she was currently wearing her frog pyjamas and hadn’t washed her hair in three days.

Because Fitz, Skye’s neighbour on her other side, was already in there standing against the opposite wall with a lean and reading a large textbook that she couldn’t see the title of. As she watched, still unnoticed in the doorway, he put the pencil he was holding between his lips and out of the way so he could highlight a passage in the book. Jemma felt suddenly, and inexplicably, rather hot and  flustered.

She must have made some kind of sound or movement, because he looked up sharply. The pencil dropped out of his open mouth as he stared at her for a long, torturous moment. He seemed to come to with a slight shake of his head, blinking rapidly.

“Jemma,” he said, scrabbling to pick up the fallen pencil. “Didn’t expect to see you. I was just…studying.”

Jemma smiled, coming further into the room. “I was doing the same before I was interrupted by-”

“Sounds?” Fitz finished.

“Yes. Sounds,” Jemma agreed. She could feel the blush rising on her cheeks just as his face was growing redder. So he’d heard them, too.

They looked at each other for a long moment. Jemma wasn’t quite sure how to continue the conversation, and Fitz looked equally at a loss.

In the end, Jemma walked to the nearest machine and began loading it up.

“So, uh, do you hide here often?” Fitz began. “I mean…Well, it seems like I’m down here a lot lately but I haven’t seen you.”

Jemma smiled at him over her shoulder. “Most times I take a walk. I usually have a routine for my laundry. Every Sunday morning. But this is a special case since…” she gestured at her nightwear. Fitz’s eyes roamed over her and the blush that had been subsiding roared to life once again.

“Oh,” he said eloquently. And it was in that moment, as he tried extremely hard not to look at her, that Jemma realised something very, very important.

Fitz _liked_ her.

Her heart warmed at the thought and she straightened, abandoning her laundry halfway into the machine.

“Fitz?” she asked.

“Hmmm?” he responded, pretending he was reading his textbook.

“Why don’t we ever talk? I mean, we are both Skye’s best friends. But we never seem to cross paths.”

“I…you know why,” Fitz replied, a confused frown on his face that Jemma was surprised to realised she found extremely cute.

“I really don’t.” She moved a few careful steps closer. Her heart beat faster with anticipation.

“Because I…never know what to say to you,” he said, eyes shifting as he changed the direction of the sentence halfway through.

Jemma moved a little more towards him. “Why’s that? We have so much in common.” She almost felt bad about pushing him. But she could feel the importance of the moment thrumming through her veins, reckless and joyful.

“I just…it’s awkward.”

“We could make it less awkward.”

She was standing only a few small steps away from him now. She looked up at him, challenging him to close the gap between them. Fitz must have finally realised something was happening, because his restless energy stilled and all that intensity focused in on her.

He shuffled forward, hesitantly at first and then with more confidence as he realised she wasn’t backing away.

“What’s going on here, Jemma?” he asked, so close that she could feel his breath whisper across her face. His eyes roved over her, as if trying to take her all in at once.

“You _like_ me,” she said.

“You sound like you’re surprised,” he said wryly.

“I only just figured it out. I thought you hated me. You never talked to me, wouldn’t even _look_ at me-”

“Jemma,” he stopped her. “That’s ridiculous. Surely you knew.”

“I know now,” she replied. Her breath hitched in her chest as her body yearned towards his.

“Do you…mind?” he asked, despite all signs clearly indicating the opposite of her minding.

“On the contrary. I am very,” she leaned closer, lips only a breath away from his. “ _Very_ pleased.”

Fitz didn’t have a chance to reply before her lips pressed against his, muffling any sound. Fitz hesitated barely a moment before cupping her face with one hand and drawing her closer with the other. Her lips parted and he took full advantage with his tongue, sweeping it into her mouth. Jemma arched into him, clutching at the lapels of his jacket to tug him ever closer.

He stumbled forward, and Jemma had to step back with the momentum, never breaking the seal of their lips. She bumped lightly against one of the washing machines, the cool metal a balm to the furnace of her heated body.

Fitz’s hand that was at her hip drifted down further, hitching her leg up. With slight jump, Jemma found herself on top of the machine, her legs wrapped loosely around Fitz’s hips. It put her at a height advantage for once, and Jemma enjoyed the sensation of kissing down to Fitz.

Fitz moved his head back and Jemma tried to follow, but he held her still. He looked at her for a long moment, gaze full of reverence.

“You didn’t ever say anything. Why now?”

“There was no point,” Jemma reminded him gently. “I thought you didn’t like me.”

Fitz gave her a look of such affectionate exasperation that she grinned.

“So, what now?” Fitz asked softly, his eyes drifting to her lips.

“I think Trip and Skye are going to be at it quite a bit longer, don’t you?”

His smile was slow and full of promise. “I’m sure we can find something to fill the time.” His nose brushed lightly against hers.

“Good,” was all she said before her lips once again descended on his.


End file.
